This is where I belong. Above blades of emeralds, crisp and cool, I lay at the bottom of the world, thinking solely of you. I’ve been here forever, staring into infinity and asking the question why over, and over, and over again.
The stars have been blinking for hours and when I looked, I found them in your eyes. Your hands were silk. Through your fingers slipped the sands of time and so here I lay, counting the pieces left behind.
But this is where I belong. Buried to my knees in warm grains, watching the waves foam. We’re on the edge of the something so grand there is little room for error. I’ve traced the ripples in your eyes, and I know what song you sing; a whispered hymn, echoing politely in the darkness.
This is my home – the vast open space – the void, tucked away secretly. I belong to the canopies, balanced on the branches. It’s been only me. They could never understand the strength of it all. From under here, I’ve watched the world fall. But you… you are my eagle, soaring proud and free.
It’s a pity, really, that it’s taken me so long. I’ve wandered across the sky, muttering frozen clichés and holding myself for comfort. It has no end, because there was never a beginning. Wrapped together in a coating so clear I can finally see through the fog: It’s been only me, sitting on blades of emerald crisp and cool. I’ve been here forever, thinking solely of you.